


Kindred Spirit

by psychobabblers



Category: Black Panther (2018), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post Black Panther, pre infinity war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 23:23:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14924822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychobabblers/pseuds/psychobabblers
Summary: T’Challa visits Bucky while he’s recovering in the hut.





	Kindred Spirit

The man once known as the Winter Soldier greeted T’Challa more curtly than he had come to expect at the door of his hut. It was true Barnes was given to moods, as Shuri could attest to, but he had thawed out literally and figuratively over the weeks when T’Challa had visited. 

Barnes had been content to sit and rest in the remote village, and Shuri had said that he’d even participated in some of the children’s games. It would have been easy to forget this pensive, quiet man was a renowned assassin, if not for the Panther always restless under T’Challa’s skin. The Panther did not forget the coiled danger within Barnes. It recognized a kindred spirit. 

Once they were both inside the hut, Barnes shut the door and sat quietly, seemingly incurious about the visit.

“How much do you know about recent events?” T’Challa asked. He knew that Shuri had not told him much but the Soldier hadn’t been infamous for nothing. 

Barnes tilted his head at the question, considering. His gaze swept over him as it had when T’Challa had just arrived, clinical and assessing. “Enough,” Barnes finally said, and his mouth was an unhappy line. 

This was interesting. Barnes usually never showed much interest in him over the weeks since his Captain had entrusted him to Wakanda’s care. He had made a full physical and mental recovery by now thanks to Shuri, but the emotional trauma would take longer to heal, and he had made no indication that he wanted to return to the world at large. He had even held off on contacting his Captain. Instead, the Soldier, one of the most dangerous assassins in the world, seemed content to while away the days in a small hut in the middle of nowhere, playing games with children.

“There’s a very high chance the fighting will come here,” T’Challa said gently. Barnes’s eyes darted up to his and then away. He was silent, the stillness of his body reminding T’Challa of a wary animal. “And then you will have a choice to make,” he continued.

Barnes did not need his choices spelled out. “I’ll fight,” he said, evenly. His eyes flicked toward the door as if he expected T’Challa to leave.

T’Challa didn’t move. “I said you had a choice.”

“And I said that I would fight,” Barnes said. Now there was a low thrum of frustration running through his voice. The panther was restless under T’Challa’s skin, stirred by the potential of violence in the air. But any time Barnes was not sitting motionless, voice an even keel, was a potential for violence. The  _ potential _ . He had never lost control. Had never shown inclinination that he even liked fighting. And so T’Challa sat still, and the panther sat with him, though reluctantly. “And you?” Barnes finally asked.

“I will do what I must to defend Wakanda,” T’Challa said. “It is my duty and my desire to protect my people.”

If he hadn’t already been watching Barnes, T’Challa might have missed the little flicker in his eyes when T’Challa said “desire.”  _ Ah _ .

He moved, motions deliberate, and Barnes tracked his movements almost unconsciously. When T’Challa placed a hand on his shoulder though, Barnes looked up as if startled to find him so close. The color of his eyes was a shade darker, his breath a rasp faster than usual. There was a slight pause and then, just as deliberate as T’Challa’s motion had been, Barnes leaned against his hand. 

“Do you want me to stop?” T’Challa whispered. 

“No,” Barnes said. “I want  _ you _ .” There was a hint of the rakish boyishness of the man from the history books, the man who had been Captain America’s friend. The Soldier had not burned it out of him. It brought his features to life.

T’Challa leaned in to kiss him, to chase that spark of life and urge it to stay. Barnes opened his mouth to him in response, pliant and shamelessly vulnerable. He seemed to relish the awkwardness of his one-armed maneuvering, seemed to enjoy the relative safety and pleasure from being bracketed between T’Chall’s arms. T’Challa dared to grind down against him and was rewarded with a gasp that went straight to his cock. 

He reached down and freed them both from the confines of their pants. Barnes’s eyes were closed, head thrown back, lips reddened from kisses. His hips were thrusting up slightly as if craving contact. “Tell me what you want,” T’Challa murmured. 

“You,” Barnes said. “This, just this. Oh, fuck.” He bit off with a curse as T’Challa swiped a thumb over his slit before going back to slowly jerking them both, spreading the pearl of wetness that has bubbled up from his touch. Barnes was making an astonishing variety of soft sounds and T’Challa grit his teeth against the sudden rush of desire.

Then Barnes arched a little and was spilling into his hand, and T’Challa followed him a moment after. They lay there panting afterwards, the panther a rumbling purr under T’Challa’s skin. Barnes traced an idle hand down T’Challa’s arm, before touching one of the teeth on the necklace. “Black panther,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

“White wolf,” T’Challa said, drawing the words out into a drawl, and Barnes smiled a smile unfettered by his past. Shuri really had worked wonders on the mess his mind had been in when the Captain has brought him in. Nowadays Barnes kept to himself in this hut out of habit rather than any need. T’Challa was hoping that would change. He was drawn to this man, to the grace with which he had weathered the healing process, the tightly leashed power coiled within him. He could recognize him as a kindred spirit. 

They would fight this upcoming war together and perhaps day by day Barnes would lose the artificial stillness of the Soldier and come to his own again.


End file.
